Sickness Falls
by BloodFromTheThorn
Summary: Camelot is dying, choking on an illness that Gaius can't explain. Arthur and Merlin are doing all they can, but soon enough one of them will fall. Can they be saved? No Slash, post season 4.
1. Chapter 1

_So far the poll is telling me that everyone wants Merlin stories, so I thought I'd oblige. DDBK readers: IT IS NOT OVER. As I said, more is on the way (eventually). This is just a bit of a tease for a later multichapter fic. It will only be short (about 5-10 chapters) and won't be anything special._

_In this chapter I haven't ever named the narrative character, for a reason. I have a character in mind and there is one MASSIVE clue as to who it is, but I'd love to hear your guesses._

_The title is from a speech I wrote (It's part of the manuscript I'm writing) that said something along the lines of: '...and may all sickness and pain fall into the sea.' It seemed fitting. Without further ado:_

**SICKNESS FALLS**

What he hated the most was the ever present numbness. It locked around his limbs like a vice and wrapped icy fingers around his heart, squeezing until he felt he would never be able to breathe again. He'd long since lost awareness of whether it was due to Gaius' potions or his... sickness.

He would have thought the nothingness would be preferable to the agony from before, but it wasn't. Pain at least let him know that he was still alive. The numb cold told him that his body was dying, that after all he had done, all he had been through, he was going to be finished by a sickness he was too weak to fight. The irony was laughable, only no one seemed to find it all that funny.

In the brief instances of lucidity Gaius' remedies afforded him, he was able to recognise figures lingering at his bedside; friends saying their last goodbyes. He was undecided on whether he thought it was a good thing: he was honoured to know he had such loyal companions, but he was horrified to realise the pain his death would cause them. He didn't want them to mourn for him, to throw flowers on his grave or have to smell the smoke from his pyre. God he hoped they wouldn't burn him, not now.

It was cold; he thought he might be shivering but he couldn't be sure. Good or bad? He'd taken to continually asking himself the question every time he felt or sensed a change. Mostly it was bad. By now he was really too numb to process it all, much less care. He was a dead man, he knew it and he was no longer afraid. Good or bad?

Good, he decided eventually. If he was to die he wanted to be able to smile at whatever was waiting for him.

'_You may have won,' _he would say, _'but you have not beaten me.'_

He thought that might be brave. In life he hadn't been, not especially. Braver is overcoming fear and moving past it, which he had never been able to do. His 'brave' actions were simply down to a surprising and frankly unhealthy lack of fear. When he'd gone through all that he had, what was there left to be afraid of? His one terror was losing his friends, his family, his home. He'd never gotten past that and yet he had lost, time and time again. Maybe he was too trusting, too open hearted? But the years had hardened him, morphing the boy he once was into a man long before his age decreed it so.

His mind wandered aimlessly, trapped and caged like a wild beast.

'_What a lonely way to die,' _he mused to himself. Of all the ways it could have happened, this was not a favourite.

Was someone holding his hand? There was a strange pressure there that through all the haze he couldn't quite comprehend. It felt... warm. Maybe he wasn't as alone as he felt. It was a comforting thought.

Time passed in strange twisting lurches and lulls until he couldn't have told you what year it was. The numbness spread with chilling fingers snaking through him until he couldn't feel anything at all. He assumed that this meant his body was almost done trying to continue his life. Good or bad?

Now that, he couldn't answer, it was a hard question. Or at least to his disease addled brain it was. He didn't particularly want to die, even if he wasn't afraid of it but at the same time an end to the... nothingness of his current existence sounded good. Maybe his death would be just another bittersweet victory.

He wasn't really sure why he even still cared, why it still mattered. He _would_ die. He had no doubts about that. His fate had been sealed as soon as he had become ill. But to drag it out like this? Was that not more cruel to the people around him? With a peak of idle frustration he cursed whatever powers of the universe there were for their complete disregard for his friends' mental well beings.

'_I'm so sorry. I hope you can forgive me. I'm sorry to hurt you all so much. I'm sorry you'll never know how sorry I am. I'm sorry you'll never know how much I need you and how grateful I am for you being there. With all my heart I love you. I hope that you at least know that.'_

**..**

_Well, I hope that was a suitably depressing/intriguing teaser. I know it's short, do not fear, the chapters will be longer. I won't really be starting this story until DDBK is finished and probably until after my exams: probably in about a month and a half._

_But remember, I'd love to you know who you think it is, and virtual cookies to whoever can spot the clue :D_

_Love y'all _


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow, so there are many opinions on who the narrative focussed on last chapter! I'm very impressed with all of your reasoning. One of you (or maybe more, I'm not entirely certain) was able to spot the clue I mentioned, so congratulations to that person (who I will name once it becomes obvious who I was talking about). _

* * *

**One Week Earlier:**

Merlin looked down at the man lying before him, his face solemn, watching as Gaius worked around the body, taking samples and examining any visible symptoms. For almost a week now patients had been showing up with fevers and colds – nothing too serious and not uncommon for the time of year. But then without warning, the patients would find blood dripping from their noses and clogging their throats while their insides just shut down without cause. The physician couldn't explain it and he had yet to find a cure. He couldn't even find common symptoms to identify when a person was infected.

All of Camelot was on high alert and unless something changed soon the warlock was afraid that they might have riots on their hands. The king was doing his best to reassure his people, spending much of his day walking in the lower towns – showing them that he was not afraid of an invisible killer, Merlin supposed. Gaius had been able to determine that the plague – if that's what this was – was not airborne and it didn't appear to be spread by human contact which helped to calm the masses.

"Anything new?" The warlock asked his mentor, keeping his voice low. The physician just grimaced and shook his head sadly.

"I can't see anything that looks different to the others. No obvious source of infection, no visible symptoms. According to his family he had been completely healthy until a few days ago and even then he only had a mild cough." Gaius looked at the body again, his forehead creased in concentration.

"What are you thinking?" Merlin recognised that expression. For a long while the physician didn't reply, just staring into space as thoughts flew behind his eyes like ghosts.

"I'm thinking that this isn't a natural sickness. I'm thinking that this might be the work of sorcery." He said eventually. The warlock instantly felt his spine straighten and his blood run cold.

"Morgana?"

"It's a possibility."

"We need to tell Arthur. He'll want to know." Merlin's voice was heavy, he knew that this would be hard for the king; even after all she had done, he couldn't quite _not _love his sister.

"He's not going to like it."

"His people are dying and he can't save them. I think we're beyond dislike."

They made their way out of the house slowly, offering meaningless condolences to the grieving family; what could their kind words do against a loss like that? The streets were almost empty, a sharp contrast to the normally bustling city. The warlock looked forlornly at the stalls and shops that stood empty as the people closed their doors in a vain attempt to protect themselves. All of a sudden, he had an urge to hit something.

"How do we fix this Gaius?" He murmured to his mentor as they wandered down the street slowly – ever since Morgana's occupation of Camelot the older man had been growing slower on his feet, though his mind was just as sharp as ever.

"I don't know my boy. I really don't know."

* * *

"You think that _Morgana _is doing this?" Arthur's voice had dropped dangerously, but Gaius didn't flinch under the piercing gaze.

"The sickness does not appear to be spread by any method that I can detect. Water and food tests have all come up empty and the families of victims have not shown any signs – it doesn't seem to be passed through direct or indirect contact. It kills quickly without discrimination. None of these things match up with any illness I have encountered before."

"It could be magic," the king allowed. "But that doesn't necessarily means that it is Morgana's doing. There are plenty of magic users that would watch Camelot fall." Merlin, lingering in the background, was somewhat pleased at the way Arthur worded that; he didn't jump to the automatic 'all magic users are evil.'

"I agree with you sire, but something of this magnitude would require a great deal of magic. There can only be a few individuals that could achieve this."

'_Two in fact,' _Merlin thought to himself. _'And I'm not doing it.'_

"I already have patrols scouting the forest for her," Arthur muttered, sounding like he was talking more to himself than to Gaius. "I hadn't thought she would have the strength for another attack so soon."

"Morgana is not to be underestimated," the physician said, not unkindly. Arthur glared at him for a moment angrily, but then his gaze softened and he shook his head.

"Keep me informed of your progress," he instructed and then turned to Merlin. "Help him as much as you can. You're free from your duties as my servant until we're through this." The warlock ducked his head but said nothing, understanding that right now Arthur was the king, not his friend and he should act accordingly.

Just before he left the throne room, Merlin glanced over his shoulder in time to see the king of Camelot drop into his throne, his head in his hands – a picture of utter despair.

* * *

The warlock turned up at Arthur's rooms that night, just as the sun was setting. He was there under the pretence of informing him of numbers of casualties and such, but to be honest he was just there to be a friend to the worried king.

Arthur looked tired and Merlin didn't doubt that he hadn't been sleeping, the stress leaving him to toss and turn restlessly until the dawn bade him to rise once more. The warlock knew because he had the same problem.

"Gaius will fix this Arthur," Merlin told him quietly. The king didn't look cheered. "You know him; he won't rest until he has found a cure."

"Finding a cure now won't bring back Joshua the miller's son or Bethany the baker's wife. Leon lost his cousin three days ago.*I've received word that Lord Greyson lost both his daughters within hours of each other. Lord Baylish of the court was one of the first to die." Arthur's voice was growing louder and more desperate with each word. "I am forced to watch as my people die around me, helpless to stop it and now I find that the reason innocents are being executed is so my psychotic half sister can torment me from afar! What would you have me do Merlin?" He turned to his friend, grabbing his shoulders and shaking them, looking quite manic. The warlock winced as his collarbones protested at the abuse.

"Arthur!" He yelped as his shoulders were squeezed painfully tight; the king was far stronger than the warlock. The blonde man released him suddenly, as though burned.

"Gods! I'm so sorry Merlin," he looked a little horrified with himself, turning to begin pacing backwards and forwards.

"Arthur. Arthur. Arthur Pendragon!" Merlin had to shout to break through the king's thoughts. "Sit down. Shut up." He forced him into a chair and cut him off before he could protest. An idle part of his mind appreciated the fact that several years ago he would never have gotten away with this. "This is _not _your fault. We're not even positive that Morgana is doing this, and if she is then it will be because of _her _madness and _not your fault._ You are doing all you can to keep the people calm and that is the best you can do for them right now. Gaius will find a cure. I promise you, he will find a cure."

It took a long moment in which the King just stared at his friend, looking a little bit lost. Then, very slowly he nodded. He closed his eyes and schooled his expression into something more fitting for the leader of Camelot.

"I... You are right. And don't look so smug Merlin, you're still an idiot." Arthur smirked at him and the warlock did his best to look offended. The King relented after a moment. "Thank you. I appreciate your council." It was the closest he was going to get to a compliment so Merlin just beamed at him, backing up slightly to allow the King to rise.

"I'll take my leave then, provided you're not about to start smashing the place," Merlin said it lightly, chiding gently. Arthur scowled at him. "I have work to do and you need to rest. I've organised a replacement to take care of you for the next few days." The King felt a little touched at all the warlock did for him, but he didn't let it show on his face; it wouldn't do to let the idiot know he actually cared.

"Merlin," he called just before the dark haired man disappeared out the door. The warlock stopped, looking round questioningly. After a slight hesitation, the King just settled for: "Good luck."

* * *

_*I really feel bad for Leon's extended family. I just kill them off whenever I feel like it :/_

_I may have sort of stolen a name from Game of Thrones. But you could argue that I've stolen all the Merlin characters. Don't worry, I'll give them back eventually._

_This chapter isn't very long or exciting, but I needed to set up the story line. The rest of it will have more going on :)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Honest excuse? I forgot about this story. I had so much going on that it was just knocked out of my head for a bit. __I'm so sorry it took so long. I'll do my best to make sure it doesn't happen again._

* * *

Merlin was so far beyond exhausted that he couldn't actually remember what sleeping felt like. It must be nice, he thought idly, turning yet another page of the dusty tome he was currently poring over. Gaius had given him the task of searching the history books - magical and non magical alike - for anything that resembled the current plague. In three days he hadn't found anything.

Disheartening wasn't even the word. Every day the death toll was climbing, people in and around Camelot and even a few from the outlying villages; if Morgana was doing this, she wasn't without help. Even he couldn't keep up a spell of this magnitude over such a large area of this long - the strain of it would kill him without a doubt.

The warlock rubbed at his eyes in a vain attempt to stop the writing on the page from dancing about. Gods he needed sleep.

With that goal in mind he tried to disentangle himself from the pile of books he was buried within, succeeding only in knocking over a stack of them to send them toppling onto him. He gave a hoarse cry as the weight slammed him into the unforgiving floor, cursing softly as the debris settled.

He groaned as he started shifting the books off him, far too tired to put the away neatly.

"Merlin?" The voice sounded one part hesitant and nine parts amused, unmistakably the king. "What on Earth are you doing?"

"Oh nothing much sire. I thought it would be fun to bury myself in books," he shot back sarcastically but there was no bite to his words. Even when sleep deprived he still had sufficient wit to deal with Arthur.

"Yes, it looks like a right laugh. Though I thought you had work to do?" From his awkward position on the floor Merlin scowled at him.

"I'm a little busy right now, as it happens," he replied eventually, shifting some more books off his ribcage, relieved when he found himself more able to breathe.

"So it seems." Without further comment, Arthur reached down and helped shift the final tomes of his friend and hauled him to his feet where he wobbled, a little unsteady. "When was the last time you slept? Or ate, for that matter?"

"Why? You worried about me?" Merlin couldn't help but pick up on the concern in Arthur's voice and he grinned at the king.

"If you're about to keel over someone will accuse me of negligence of my staff. Can't have that now, can I?" He was joking and smiling but there was a tense line to his shoulders and shadows within his blue eyes that Merlin hated to see.

"So you're telling me I'm not allowed to keel over?"

"That's right. Consider it an order from your king." Merlin laughed a little though the movement made him aware of the bruises his ribs had sustained from his little incident. Arthur was still propping him up, he noticed eventually and the warlock was slightly surprised to find that his legs were entirely unwilling to take his own weight.

_'Not moving or eating at all for three days will do that to you, fool,' _He told himself._ 'And I call Arthur stupid.' _That wasn't something he was going to say out loud.

"Um, I might wander down to the kitchens after all," he said awkwardly while Arthur just stood there grinning, apparently aware of the warlock's embarrassment.

"Ok then," was all he said, still grinning.

"...Prat." Arthur laughed - a proper laugh that doubled him over and made his eyes shine like they used to. Merlin was inordinately pleased with himself.

"Come on then idiot, I'll help you." The King grabbed Merlin's arm and pulled it over his shoulders, taking most of the skinny man's weight.

By the time they got to the kitchens the pair had earned more than a few strange looks but Arthur didn't even seem to notice; at some point the hard lines of the king had crept back in and now he walked straight-backed with muscles coiled in stress.

The maids in the kitchen took one look at them before turning tail and practically running for the door, leaving them alone with the head cook Beth. Nothing fazed her and she simply filled two plates with food and slapped them down in front of them. One had much richer food on than the other, clearly meant for Arthur but the king made a point of forcing that one towards Merlin, taking the smaller portion for himself. Beth eyed him appraisingly but left the two of them in silence.

"For someone who spends all their time taking care of me, you're not great at looking after yourself," Arthur pointed out after watching Merlin scarf down an entire roll of bread.

"You know, that's almost a compliment," The warlock pointed out between mouthfuls. The king just chuckled. "I do look after myself most of the time. I was busy."

"I know." At the return of the topic they both sobered, the levity fading from the conversation. "Have you found anything?"

"I found records of a similar illness, far up in the North. People who were previously healthy would be found dead without cause but it was limited to a specific family. It turned out that there was a witch who cursed them - the records are unclear as to _why _- but they never found any cure. The witch was killed but it didn't save the rest of the family. They all died within two months." It hurt Merlin to have to blame this plague on magic - it felt like they were going in the wrong direction.

"So even if this is Morgana, even if she's killed, we can't stop this?" Arthur sounded as though the weight of the world had just crashed onto his shoulders. Merlin was quick to jump in and reassure him, even if the words felt hollow to his own ears.

"We'll still don't know that it is her. And even if it is, the people in the north didn't even have a physician, let alone one as skilled as Gaius. If anyone can cure this, he can. The people haven't given up yet Arthur, so neither will you. We fight until we fall, remember?" It was a line from the original Knight's Oath, a vow long since changed but Merlin had seen it a few times on documents around the castle. Arthur seemed surprised that he would know it.

"You're a bit creepy when you go into sage mode."

"'Sage mode?'"

"We'll don't all have the time you do to come up with nicknames, _Mer_lin." The warlock laughed but ended up choking on a piece of pork and Arthur had to pat him on the back, muttering something about karma.

"I should go and find Gaius. He might need help."

"You should go and _sleep _Merlin. You're dead on your feet." Merlin was going to make a snappy reply but Arthur looked genuinely concerned for him so he swallow his retort and nodded slowly.

"I guess you're right," he admitted.

"So," Arthur started, switching conversations abruptly. "Was sending George as a replacement servant punishment for something I did?" Merlin giggled.

"I thought you'd appreciate 'the best servant you've ever met' for a little while. It must be a nice change from my errant ways." The King cuffed him over the head but he was smiling with him.

They continued chatting while they finished their food, before getting up to leave. The king seemed determined to make sure the warlock went to bed and walked with him all the way to Gaius' chambers.

The escort wasn't necessary. As soon as Merlin caught sight of his bed he felt the crushing exhaustion settle over him again and he practically collapsed onto the cot and, fully clothed, passed out.

* * *

When Merlin next awoke, the sky outside his window was pink with the glow of dawn.

_'Dawn? That can't be right,' _He thought to himself. It had been just after midday when he fell asleep; he'd only meant to get a few hours of rest. With that thought in mind he practically flew out of his room, almost colliding with a tired looking Gaius on the way.

"Merlin! You're awake. Good." Neither of them pointed out that most of Camelot was still asleep at this hour - neither of them were keeping to regular sleeping patterns. "I need you to fetch some more water and then I need help making the rounds." Merlin complied without comment, working quickly and efficiently around his mentor, helping where he could and keeping out of the way where he couldn't.

Over the course of the day he filled Gaius in on everything he had found in the library but there wasn't much to tell. The search had been mostly fruitless.

By the time night was falling Merlin was exhausted again, emotionally as much as physically. The town was full of grieving families and watching them suffer was heart wrenching, especially knowing that Morgana - one of his worst failures - might be responsible.

"What do we do Gaius?" He asked the physician when they returned to his chambers. "I can't just watch this."

"I know, my boy. I know. But what else can we do? None of my treatments are working and there's nothing I can do to prevent the spread."

"We need to know if Morgana is behind this. It might help to know what we're fighting against."

"Going up against Morgana right now wouldn't achieve anything Merlin. You know that," Gaius chided gently, his face compassionate. He knew how hard it was for the warlock to watch this without being able to stop it - the physician felt the same thing.

"I know. But I can't do nothing."

"Spend tomorrow reading through your magic book. You might find something."

"I've looked a thousand times already, there's no spells in there that could do something like this," Merlin told him, sounding distraught.

"But maybe there's something that could help us fight the sickness? Or at least predict where it will strike?"

Eventually Merlin nodded, looking slightly mollified by his guardians words. Little else was said before the warlock dragged himself up to his room slowly, his whole body aching with fatigue and stress. As he was drifting off he decided that he would spend some of tomorrow with Arthur in the hope of some normality - it might do him some good to get back to his regular routine.

* * *

He woke up coughing. It had started as a scratch in his throat that had been there since his stint in the library - being around all that dust had done him no good - but with all the rushing around he'd been doing he hadn't even noticed that it was still there. It was nothing really, more annoying than anything.

Either way he rolled out of bed with a groan and pulled on his jacket slowly. The last thing any of them needed right now was him to get flu - there weren't enough helping hands at the moment as it was. On his way to the kitchen he ran into a harassed-looking George and told him that he'd look after Arthur for the day; the other servant thanked him profusely and dashed off before he could explain his preoccupation.

Confused and a little concerned (despite himself he liked George's almost fanatical obsession with his work - it meant that there was always someone who could take care of Arthur should anything happen to the warlock) he continued with the days work. He collected Arthur's breakfast, made small talk with Beth and headed towards the king's chambers.

Merlin's plan for the day was worth it if only to see Arthur's face light up when he saw who had woken him.

"And just where have you been?" He demanded, smiling.

"If you'll recall sire, you were the one who ordered me to help Gaius."

"It was nice having a half decent servant for a while," he mused as he wandered behind the changing screen.

"It was hell, you're just too proud to admit it," Merlin told him calmly, straightening the bed with quick automatic motions. His muscles were stiff this morning from overwork but he shook them out without complaint - it wasn't uncommon.

"Disagreeing with the king? I'm fairly sure there's a law against that you know," Arthur told him calmly, strutting out from the screen to eat his breakfast.

"I think we should all do it more often."

"I could have you hanged. You're inciting rebellion." Merlin just raised an eyebrow at him - Gaius would be so proud. "Can you find my cape? I need to go into the town this morning." The warlock could see Arthur turning somber again so he immediately reverted to joking.

"You're asking me? Are you quite sure you're well sire?" He was barely able to dodge the cup that flew at him, but The king's laugh was worth it.

* * *

_I'm toying with the idea of this being a reveal fic. Thoughts?_

_The next one won't take as long, I promise. I can't believe that this took two months. God I'm a horrible person._

_Did they have karma in Arthurian england? Probably not. Oh well :) _

_This is not proof read and written on a tablet, not a computer so there will be a lot of mistakes. Currently I'm too tired to bother checking. I'll do it later._


	4. Chapter 4

_It should not have taken this long. My greatest apologies to everyone who waited. I'm aware that my update time right now is terrible, but I'm settling in a uni now so it should get better soon. _

* * *

Camelot had too many corridors Merlin decided, trudging along slowly while willing his body to just stop complaining for a little while. The tickle in his throat had evolved into a dry ache and his ribs hurt from coughing, his head felt like a warzone and every muscle in his body was screaming for a rest. He'd forgotten how exhausting following Arthur could be.

It wasn't the king's fault really - not at all, if he was honest - this was his job after all and he loved it but today was just one of those days where he wished he could just doze through the hours in a warm bed far from this city that was suffering so. Most of Arthur's morning had been spent amongst the people, trying to be the support they needed and Merlin had been forced to watch as his king's spirit was crushed further at the sight of so much pain; it was a blessing when Arthur decided that they should return to the castle.

And so now here he was following Arthur back to his quarters to prepare him for a meeting with his council , all the while wondering who thought it would be a good idea to put the king's chambers up so many stairs.

"Come on Merlin!" Arthur snapped from the top of the staircase, glancing back and realising that the servant wasn't right next to him like normal. "I'll be late unless you hurry up."

"Sorry sire," Merlin called back, breathless. It felt like something was clogging in his throat, making it hard to breathe and he could feel exhaustion seeping into his muscles like poison.

"What is wrong with you today? I've not heard one insult since I woke up." Merlin had a witty retort lined up instantly but found that he didn't have enough air in his lungs to vocalise it. Breathing deeply he continued to trudge in silence, head down, trying to ignore the burning feeling that was spreading across his chest.

_'It's just a cold Merlin, shake it off,' _he told himself sternly. When he finally reached the top of the stairs he almost sunk to the ground in relief but wasn't afforded the luxury when Arthur turned and took off again, leaving his servant to trail along miserably while still trying to catch his breath.

"Is there a reason we have to walk so fast?" He asked eventually when he had caught up with the king. Arthur gave him a sidelong glance, concern flashing on his features for a minute before he just scofffed.

"You can't possibly be tired?" Merlin shrugged, defensive, before Arthur just sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "Tell you what. There's no point in you coming to the meeting. Go and help Gaius or whatever else is on your list of things to do." The warlock nodded in thanks, a little touched by the caring lilt to Arthur's words.

They were almost at Arthur's chambers when it happened. All Merlin was really aware of was that the burning in his chest had been intensifying and he tried to relieve the pressure a little by coughing before he realised his terrible mistake. Once he started coughing he found that he couldn't stop and he had to pant for breath that couldn't get past his constricted throat. Tears streamed from his eyes and he became vaguely aware that he was on his knees and Arthur was there and was more than likely the only thing still holding him up. Panic flooded his veins, a fierce terror paralysing him.

Everything was buzzing with white noise in a distracting, infuriating hum and the world was darkening dramatically as he continued to struggle to breathe with little success. His body felt strange, as though it was in pain but he couldn't quite feel it yet, leaving him quivering.

Just before everything blacked out entirely he saw Arthur's face looming over him, creased with worry, eyes wide in surprise and a cry falling from his lips.

* * *

"Gaius, what on Earth was that?" Arthur's voice was tight with repressed concern and the elderly physician was moved by the care hidden there. No one could deny that the king and his servant were best friends - except for the two of them, but Gaius was fairly sure they were just in denial.

"I don't know sire," he replied gravely, looking down at the prone figure before them. All that was keeping them both calm and collected was the steady rise and fall of the warlock's chest. "None of the other victims of the sickness have presented such symptoms."

"You think it's something else?"

"I don't think we could have such a coincidence. But something is different this time." There was a long pause where Gaius frowned tiredly and Arthur busied himself in trying to keep his face emotionless. "I'll do what I can sire."

"I know Gaius. Thank you," the king told him sincerely before retreating from the room, casting one last worried glance at his friend.

The nagging feeling of concern didn't leave Arthur alone for the rest of the day until he found himself in a council meeting having to ask Lord Erik to repeat the question that he hadn't listened to. By the time he had escaped back to his own chambers he was exhausted and grumpy and he just wanted to hide from the world for the next few hours.

"Arthur!"

Of course. A king can't just have an hour to himself now, could he?

"Guinevere," he said politely when his queen appeared in the doorway. As soon as he saw her, her face red and puffy from crying he mentally kicked himself for being so thoughtless; she was as close to Merlin as he was. Instinctively he reached out to her for comfort and she practically threw herself into his arms, pulling him close. He could feel her shaking through his chain mail.

"Is he going to be ok?"

"Gaius is looking after him. He's in the most capable hands he could be."

"What if it's not enough?" Gwen's voice was so quiet that he barely caught the words but there was no mistaking the question. It had been weighing on his mind too and he could hear the same agony in her voice that he felt within himself; his arms tightened around her protectively and he pressed his face into her hair.

"It will be. It _has _to be."

* * *

When the morning came it didn't bring any better a day than the one before. For the court physician of Camelot, the new dawn was barely even observed as he continued to busy himself with making various potions and poultices, every now and then sneaking glances at his ward who had remained stubbornly unconscious throughout the night. Arthur had materialised briefly just before the sun rose, looking as though he had had no more sleep than Gaius, before excusing himself to attend a briefing with his knights. The queen arrived a few hours later in a simple dress with her hair pulled back, announcing that she needed to keep her hands busy and asking what she could do to help.

Watching her work, mopping Merlin's feverish brow, Gaius smiled to himself. She really was the best queen Camelot could ever ask for and he would always treasure her as a friend.

It wasn't until midday that Gwen called out to him in alarm. Hurrying to her side, the physician was rewarded with the sight of his ward blinking wildly, his eyes darting around the room in a panic. His breathing hitched as he started to panic and Gaius wasted no time in grabbing the boys hand and looking him in the eyes.

"Merlin! Listen to me. You're alright. You're in my chambers and you're safe."

"What- What happened?" The warlock's voice was raspy and dry but the words were clear enough and Gaius almost cried in relief.

"You passed out yesterday. You don't remember anything?" There was a moment of silence while the dark haired boy thought about it.

"My... My chest was hurting but it was nothing... I don't understand," Merlin told them, sounding far away. "I... What's wrong with me?"

"We don't know," Gwen told him calmly, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder. Merlin's head whipped round to look at her, as if noticing her presence for the first time before he relaxed into the touch as he recognised her. "But we're going to look after you. You'll be fine Merlin."

Gaius felt the same pride as before swell up and block his throat as he watched the queen of Camelot comfort a serving boy without reservation. Her strength of character would be admired by generations to come, shadowed only by tales of her compassion. She was truly incredible.

After that it didn't take Merlin long to drift off again, apparently still exhausted despite his prolonged unconsciousness. Gaius was completely at a loss with what had happened; while he had been awake, the warlock had been tired but otherwise seemed to be healthy.

Now, sitting in his chambers alone, watching the shadows creep in and wrap around the corners of the room, he reflected on everything he had learned of this sickness. He was almost certain that it was magical, in which case Morgana was the most likely culprit - unless they were dealing with something new, which wasn't something that any of them needed right now. If the illness was due to magic, it might explain Merlin's unique response to it. On the one hand, that meant that Merlin wasn't dead yet; on the other, Gaius had no idea at all what to expect, or what he could do to help.

The whole situation was bad but he couldn't see an easy way out. Normally he could find something in one of his books that would point to a solution but there was nothing and Gaius was suddenly finding it harder to stay collected.

Merlin looked too still, too pale, too fragile. It hurt to see such a lively person brought down like this in such a short amount of time.

"Hang in there my boy," he told him softly, reaching out to rub at his ward's pale hand. "We'll work it out."

The only reply was the silence of the dark room and the emptiness echoed hollowly in his ears. It was eerie for Camelot to be so quiet, the usual noises of the night stifled under the heavy press of mourning; Gaius shifted uneasily in his seat.

"We need you to get better Merlin. All of us. I think we'll need your help before all this is over."

* * *

_This chapter was hard to get out :/ It might change a bit. I'll tell you if that happens though. Was Gaius OOC or was that just me? _

_Who's been watching the new series? Anyone else think it's awesome? I wasn't massively fond of the storylines and frankly the blue alien thing creeped me out but __**there was bromance. **__AND IT WAS AWESOME. Merlin threw rotting vegetables at his king and __**he just laughed. **__No threats or insults. He laughed. Oh god. It was the most adorable thing ever. _


End file.
